Kitchen Confessions
by Agent Xero
Summary: RATED M: My take on what happened after "LSD". Rated M for a reason! P/O smutty goodness!


My end of 3x19 "LSD"! I've been on a Polivia high since seeing the latest sneak peak for Friday's episode.

For anyone following "Crash Into You" that'll be updated soon! For anyone not… feel free to take a peak, you won't be disappointed!

Rated M for some lovely adult smutty Peter/Olivia post LSD goodness, fully equipped with a delicious treat for breakfast!

Enjoy, my fellow smut lovers!

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><p><strong>Kitchen Confessions<strong>

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><p>The space underneath her bed was dark, barren and blackened desert as Olivia flattened on the ground and lifted up the bed skirt, her eyes searching the vast emptiness for something desperately, something she had long forgotten. She huffed, annoyed and threw the skirt down, sitting against the bed frame as her eyes followed the grooves of the floorboards, wishing they'd lead her to what she was looking for. Pulling her knees to her chest, she placed her chin on her arm and chewed her lip in thought. Where had she put the damned thing since she moved almost two years ago? She let out an unwomanly-like growl and sighed. Where on earth would one put a book she never intended to look at ever again? She had dug through her closet, her drawers, even through the kitchen trying to find it, but it was nowhere in sight.<p>

A realization struck her as she stood; a new light flickered in her mind as she walked over to the book case in her living room. Of course, how could she have been so stupid? Everyone knew that books that weren't going to be used sat in the book case, unlike books that were actually being read. They belonged everywhere; paper weights, lamp stands, even to fix the broken leg of her mirror. Certainly not book case worthy. Scanning the shelves quickly she finally found what she was looking for, a friend that time had seemed to put on the back burner and let simmer for almost twenty-five years.

She blew a layer of dust off the top of her sketch book and smiled at the cover, once white now a faded, aged brown, her name written in juvenile letters from when she was in elementary school, her hand writing still atrocious by any girl's standpoint. That was something she got from her father, ghastly handwriting that didn't fit the girlish personality. It was one of the things that made her different from the other girls her grade, it made her unique. She opened it, surprised to see the condition of the pages still fresh, untouched by time, the pages were a magnificent white and pure, untouched by human hands in years, the textured paper beneath her finger tips made the hair on her neck rise. She hadn't had an urge to draw in years, and suddenly coming back from the lab, her old hobby was revived.

In the kitchen the coffee pot sounded off, saluting her late night craving with a patriotic chime as she made her way to the object of her affection and poured a cup, the steaming liquid made her nose tickle as she poured in a single spoonful of sugar and stirred, sitting at the table she stared at the blank paper; with a sharpened pencil in her hand, her eyes searching for the right area to start. Finally, she found it. At the top of the paper she drew a single, solid line downward and smiled. She had forgotten how much she loved drawing.

Her hand worked steadily over the paper, pressing lightly and heavily with the pencil, its tip scraping against the paper to bring the vision in her head to life. The feeling of the graphite scraping the paper made the hair on the back of her neck rise, goose bumps rising over her body as she contoured each line and dulled the tip. Soon her image came to life; a contrast of black and white that made Olivia lick her lips in with a delicious graphite-based satisfaction to get this mysterious man out of her mind, his foreign face was like a long lost dream that finally made her wake up.

Stroke after stroke the tip dulled even further, the fresh, square eraser she used to scrub clean her mistakes began to smooth over evenly as she edited and changed, getting his face just right, the depth of his body echoed by a shaded shadow behind his layered body made her cock her head in curiosity at her creation. Fixing his eyes they were dark and mysterious, almost frightening, but she found no fear in them, like she could conquer them just as easily. She wasn't afraid. Not anymore. She moved to the outline of the emblem on his chest and began to color, shading and shadowing until it was filled with a gray sea. Her stomach growled loudly; determined to satisfy the monster she popped two pieces of bread into the toaster and sat down, picking up her pencil again.

A small rap came at her door. She checked the clock, a habit she normally had when someone knocked, but the rhythm gave away its musician, a signature melody, and she knew who the composer was. Placing the pencil down Olivia stood slowly as a smile broadened across her cheeks. Grasping the door knob she opened it perhaps a little quicker than she would have liked as her suspicions proved correct. Peter stood before her in his coat, bundled up to his curved neck trying keeping the cold out and a small grin on his face.

"Hi," she breathed and chuckled, shifting her weight to one hip, "Well you don't look stoned out of your mind anymore, you certainly look better than when I saw you a few hours ago."

Peter huffed, eying the dipping gray shirt and jeans she wore, her hair falling far below her shoulders, her eyes shining. "I could say the same for you; you weren't that much better looking tripped out either." There was a moment of silence between them before she casually walked into him, her arms wrapping around his neck and she felt Peter reciprocate, his hands following the muscles of her back as he pulled her close to him, breathing her in. Two weeks felt like eternity since he held her, the feeling of her body against him was exhilarating, refreshing and welcomed. "I missed you," he whispered into her hair, afraid to let her go again, tightening his hold on her.

Olivia pulled back; a corner of her mouth twisted upward, "I missed you, too." The toaster in the kitchen popped. "You hungry?" She left his arms, but not before twisting her fingers in his and walking slowly to the kitchen, feeling his gaze on her back.

"I'm good, thanks," he said as she released her light grasp, allowing Peter to place his coat on the chair and sat down at the table, watching her, his favorite kind of movie, the knife grazing the toasted crust elegantly. "How are you feeling?"

She turned around and nibbled on the crust of her bread, "I feel like I've been asleep for the past few weeks, like it's all been some really strange dream," she swallowed her mouthful, "Peter," God, he loved the way she said his name, "thanks, for coming to find me."

He smiled. "Not quite the same as universe hopping, but you're welcome nonetheless," his eyes drifted down to the sketch pad that rested on the table below him, his brow rising in curiosity. Another surprise he found about her, she was a closet artist, and the detail about the strange man in the zeppelin was unremarkable. "Any idea who this guy is?" he asked, but she simply shrugged, half way done with her toast.

"I've never seen him before, no," she said, "But I think he's the man whose going to kill me." she finished the last bite and washed her hands off and crossing them over her chest calmly.

Peter's head jerked upward, his face falling and shocked at the lack of expression on hers. "What?"

She shrugged nonchalantly, wiping away a few stray crumbs from her cheek. "I don't know, it's a feeling. But there is one thing I'm sure of."

"And what's that, if I may inquire?" he asked, his arms resting on the table as she leaned back and placed her hands on the counter, suppressing a smile as she bit her lip, her eyes sinking towards the floor, her cheeks flushing.

Olivia swallowed, and couldn't help grin at him. "I'm not afraid," she paused, "to move forward. I was at first, but whatever happened these past few weeks, whatever strange, vague occurrence has happened, I'm not scared. Not anymore."

Peter stood, amazed. Something was different in her. Minus the revelation that she may have been foreshadowing some weird death dream, she was different. Calmer. More collective, not wondering. Focused. And, in some way, incredibly irresistible, more than she was a few weeks ago. What, he couldn't put his finger on it but there was a strange, glowing persona in her that brought butterflies to his stomach. He knew what she meant. But Peter was an audible creature, he needed to hear it come from her lips, despite the fact he knew the answer, "Moving forward with what?"

She crossed her arms over her chest as he moved closer to her until he was practically standing on top of her, his eyes fixed on hers as Olivia smiled, her lips a simple, devilish red, her hands still clutching the thin shirt she wore, pulling the fabric tighter around her torso. Slowly Peter raised a hand, and placed a hand on her cheek, this thumb making small circles by the corner of her mouth and searched her face for the answer he knew she would give. But simple green was not what he saw in her eyes; instead a bright, beautiful flaming lustful emerald that almost brought Peter to his knees.

She raised one eyebrow slowly, "With everything," she breathed, feeling her heart rate pick up as she slowly placed her hands on his chest, her nails scratching against the texture of his sweater, her fingers tracing a path to his collar and gripped it gently, pulling Peter into her, connecting with his lips in a luscious kiss that made both their heads fuzzy. He had almost forgotten what she tasted like. There was a hint of coffee, a thin layer of salty butter and sweet essence that was uniquely Olivia, an addicting powder that made Peter crave more. He kissed her slowly again, savoring her on his lips, a last drop of water for years.

He lifted her onto the counter, the access to her body increased as her knees paralleled with his waist, her ankles meeting the sides of his thighs, his lower body fitting into hers like a puzzle. One by one his fingers found the hem of her shirt and snuck beneath it, fingering the edge of the jeans lightly, his fingertips connected delicately with her skin as she flinched, laughing against his mouth. He had forgotten she was ticklish, but that didn't seem to bother her; she locked her arms around his neck and pulled Peter into her, pressing her body against his, one hand venturing down to the crevice of his neck; she could feel his pulse racing.

Olivia gasped as his hands found their way underneath her shirt and upwards towards her breasts, rubbing over them delicately. Immediately Peter felt her respond to his fingers, nimble and true, rubbing and squeezing her through her bra. A smile came to his face as he kissed her, felt her draw him even further as he continued to expertly tease her. Her hands rose to cup his face, her ankles hitched behind his thighs and pushed her against her aching lower body, a flash of heat that made Olivia purr against his lips. She was jelly in his talented hands.

Peter couldn't help but grin as she pulled back, biting her lip and threw her shirt over her head as it landed on the bowl of apples on the table. He looked down her beautiful chest and watched her undo her belt buckle, dropping it to the floor with a metal _clang_. Next she stripped him of his shirt, flinging it God only knew where until he was almost as top naked as she was. He snatched her lips in his again and lifted her from the counter, making their way to her bed. Two weeks was definitely too long to wait.

Olivia felt her back hit the soft comforter and Peter climbed on top of her, unclasped her bra and discarded it on the floor; his hands began navigating the zipper of her jeans efficiently as he shimmied down to her feet and yanked them off, earning a gracious laugh from her as she brought herself up to her elbows, running her fingers through her hair and watched him, the hungry animal instinct inside Peter grew. She begged him to come back to her, but he had different ideas. Leaving Olivia beneath him in nothing but her silk underwear he flatted himself against her legs, his palms running up the outsides of her strong thighs, his lips planting small kisses on the inside of her legs, nibbling at her sensitive skin. He heard her breathing pick up pace as he moved up her body, stopping just at the top of her underwear.

He kissed her hip bones, his teeth dragging in line with the lace she wore, letting his tongue dance along the fabric before he pulled it off and away, leaving her uncovered, his for the taking. He paused for a moment and shifted his eyes upward. Her eyes were heavy with heat and desire as she gave him a small smile of anticipation. Slowly, keeping his eyes on hers, he lowered himself down to her throbbing core and kissed her swollen core, the heat coming from her made Peter's head swim. He slowly lapped her, drinking her in and heard a beautiful moan of his name escape her lips. He continued to kiss her, tease her, please her, making Olivia arch against him, her hands fisting in the sheets and his hair tighter than he could have imagined. He continued the luscious assault on her lower body, and simply watched her while he did so, the things he could make her body do with the simple flick of his tongue was fascinating.

Peter felt her muscles contract around his tongue, making him smile and plant another kiss before granting her wish and moving upwards towards her, stopping at her breasts to suckle them, making her groan and moan even more. He paid each close attention, each mountain a separate range for exploration, flicking and suckling her like an infant hungry with desire and love, with a precious attention. She drew in a sharp breath and moaned louder than intended making Peter laugh.

"It's probably a good thing we're not at my house," he said, gently biting the skin of her breast and running his tongue over the bite marks, healing the reddened flesh, "Or else you'd wake Walter." He reached up for her and kissed her, enjoying the taste of both her lips on his. Salty and sweet at the same time. Delicious. Life sustaining. As if his mouth wasn't enough he pressed his jeans into her aching lower body and began to move against her, his own arousal begging to be let out its cage. As if she read his mind her hands found his zipper and pulled it south, discarding both his jeans and his boxers somewhere around them in the darker corners of the room.

"I wouldn't put that blame _entirely_ on me," she whispered into his ear. Olivia grinned as she took him in her hand, moving her palm slowly up and down the length of him, smiling as Peter's head dipped into the crevice of her shoulder and drew in a deep breath, her hands doing magic tricks on his wand. He wasn't expecting that, she knew, and she couldn't help but chuckle as Peter moved against her, moaning her name into her skin, his hands clutching the pillows behind her head. "Side drawer, in case you forgot," she muttered into his ear and kissed him.

Peter grinned and reached over, grabbing a small foil package and unwrapping the contents. He kissed her while he slipped it on and repositioned himself on top of her, and entered her willingly, her body arching against him as she spoke his name, her hands running up and down the muscles of his back, rippling with each thrust he made into her. Peter started off slow, working into the rhythm and watched her face twitch as he moved within her, Olivia bit her lip lustfully and smiled, gasping as his hands roamed her body.

In the flash of an eye she locked her legs around his and rolled, flipping Peter onto his back as she rocked her hips against him, his hands bracing her legs for support. She smiled and ran her fingers through her hair, whisking the golden strands away from her face and gazed into Peter's crystal blue eyes as he grunted, licking his lips and took in the site of her naked, beautiful body. She panted as she rode against Peter, a jockey working her horse for the intimate finish; a thin layer of perspiration began to coat their bodies, their hearts accelerated with every move they made against each other.

"I guess I should have warned you," she panted, gasping and moaning, "I prefer it on top." She raised an eyebrow seductively towards him, making Peter chuckle, raising himself and pulled her bare chest against him, capturing her lips in another breathtaking kiss as he grunted.

"That's fine," he kissed her chest, "Because when we do this again, it's my turn to show you my preferences, Liv." Peter dragged his teeth against her neck, playfully biting her. "And your mind will be blown, no pun intended." She laughed as she continued to move against him, her muscles contracting around him, as she kissed him and bit his lip, letting her teeth rake against the skin of his mouth.

Their pace quickened as the wave they rode began to crest higher and higher, about to fall over the edge. He made his move again, bringing Olivia gently onto her back again and pulled her hands above her head and using just his hips to propel him into her with more force than before, adding to the growing ache they felt. They were close, so close. Both could feel it. While keeping her hands pinned above her Peter returned his lips to her breasts, paying each equal attention with his lips. He felt her legs try and close around him, her muscles clenched as she almost screamed his name, bringing his eyes back to her. He had only seen her orgasm once before, and it was quiet and delicate, but this time she didn't hold back. She wasn't afraid to. Not anymore.

He raised his upper body off of hers and continued to pulse, and soon enough their wave crashed and they climaxed, her body writhing with immeasurable pleasure his as Peter swallowed and smiled, enjoying the pleased look on Olivia's face as she crashed over the precipice, taking Peter with her. His arms shook as he supported his body weight above her, not wanting to crush her as their breathing calmed, the reminisce of their love making began to dwindle. Slowly he pulled out of her and removed the thin layer of protection, disposing it in the small receptacle next to her bed.

Finally Peter let his tired arms get the best of him, and Olivia sat that. She pulled his lips down to hers and kissed him, deep, slow and passionate, coaxing his head down to her chest so he could breath. He collapsed beside her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, breathing hard, but smiling. She ran her fingers through his sweat matted hair and sighed happily as she listened to his breathing, his heart beating in time with hers.

"Liv," he panted into her chest, "Don't _ever_ go away for more than a week again, that was too much stress to bear."

She chuckled evilly at the thought that skipped through her head. "So Bell didn't let you get it out of your system? No midnight drunken mistakes?"

He pinched her sides, causing Olivia to burst out in laughter and curl up against him, his fingers tickling her as he grunted. "You're sick, you know that?" He stopped and let her curl up against him again, her legs tangling with his, her bare chest contacting his.

She let out another small laugh and placed her hands on his cheeks. "I'm kidding, Peter," she chucked. "Although the look on Walter's face if he found you and… Bell together would be absolutely _priceless_. He'd never let you live it down."

"You think I'd really want to screw with a man who is my father's age? Please. I wouldn't try and get in any possessed woman's pants, regardless of who it was by." He kissed her, "Unless it was you in some hot porn star's body-"

She lightly, playfully slapped him and brought his face to hers again, kissing the area on his cheek, laughing as she did it. "Peter Bishop, don't you even go there."

He smiled and kissed her lips again, enjoying the feeling of her again, a sensation he never wanted to let go of. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

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><p>Peter rolled over lazily and groaned as the sun cut through the curtains and pinpointed his eyelid, burning his retina even before he opened his eyes. Letting out a bellowing yawn he stretched and arched his back, shaking sleep from his bones. He wiped a line of drool from his chin, a bad habit he still had from when he was a boy, and looked to his right to find the bed empty. He shook his head again and retraced his steps, for he was sure he went to bed with someone else next to him. He sat up on his elbows and surveyed his surroundings.<p>

Clothes lay strewn across the room in no pattern in particular, as did a few of the sheets, and their shoes, flung carelessly around the floor in the heat of their passionate romance only a few hours before. His jeans, her socks, his undershirt, her underwear dotted the area rug and accented his recollection of last night, which brought a smile to his face. Across her apartment he heard her delicate footsteps and a small echo of the radio and a small voice humming with the beat. Peter stood and looked around the room for his boxers, his brow wrinkling in confusion. He was pretty sure he wore underwear last night. Defeated, he grabbed a pair of sweatpants from his overnight bag that found a home underneath the window. He quickly brushed his teeth and made his way into the kitchen where the unmistakable smell of pancakes, sausage and coffee began to swim in head and made his stomach growl. Hell, after their activities last night, he was starving.

Peter grinned as he watched Olivia sing softly to herself from across the room, a sweet tune which caught him off guard. She actually could carry a tune, another mystery in the book of Olivia. The sun bounced off her golden hair, tucked carefully at the top of her head into a loose bun, exposing her neck to his hungry lips. She had on nothing more than a gray tank top and blue shorts

Her head turned as he spotted him from the living room and smiled, "Hungry?"

Peter hummed, "Starved," and kissed her while grabbing a coffee mug, eying the ingredients that dusted the counter, raising an eyebrow suspiciously. "Since when do you cook?"

She huffed, "What, you think you're the only one who can make pancakes, Mr. Bishop? While blueberry may be your secret recipe, mine happens to consist of vanilla, banana and nuts." She poured another ladle full of batter onto the skillet and filled it. "Tell anyone else and I may have to kill you," she said and shook the ladle at him, grinning. "Ella loves my pancakes. Don't knock them until you try them."

Peter chuckled and grabbed two plates from the cabinet and began to set the table, pulling the syrup and butter from the fridge and poured her another cup of coffee. He turned on the TV to catch up on the morning news as she finished the rest of the batter. Placing them on the table she grabbed the paper and a pen, immediately jumping to the crosswords and sipped her coffee. Taking a bite, Peter felt his mouth water at the texture and the taste.

"I think you and Walter should have a pancake-off," he said with his mouth half full, shoving another forkful in his mouth as she did the same, savoring the sweet taste. "These are delicious."

Olivia laughed, swallowing her portion. "I also make a mean chicken parmigiana, garlic bread and a shrimp in a butter and garlic sauce that Rachel makes me cook every time she and Ella come to visit."

"So why am I the one that always cooks? You never offer," he teased.

"You never asked, Peter." Olivia said matter-of-factly and flashed him a smile before turned her eyes back to the paper, they fell into a comfortable silence once again. Across from her, Peter couldn't help but smile as he grabbed the entertainment section and continued to eat. It was exactly as he pictured it would be, the image he had in his head for months of him and Olivia. Waking up, eating breakfast, relaxing before another day of disaster and despair. Minus the whole Olivia making breakfast part, the fact she could cook was an added bonus. Her pancakes were fantastic. Once they were done she began to clean up, washing the dishes as Peter helped her, drying as she washed and put them away.

"I was meaning to ask you," he said, placing a glass on a shelf, his eyes traveling down the skin of her legs as she reached to place another glass up. He knew he recognized the shorts she wore, "Have you seen my boxers?"

She turned her head slowly and bit her lip suppressing a smile, glancing downward to where his eyes rested on her thighs. "You mean these boxers?" she motioned to her lower body and raised an eyebrow. "Well I couldn't make breakfast half naked, and considering you threw my underwear half way across the room, these were more accessible this morning, and a lot more comfortable."

He saw a spark in her eye and recognized the game she was beginning to play. "I'm going to need those back, Liv," he said, his voice dropping in tone as he moved closer to her, closing the gap between her and the counter.

She turned and placed her hands on the counter, staring at the ceiling in thought. This is exactly how things happened last night, and it brought a smile to her face. "Umm," she hummed, "No. I think I prefer these." She couldn't suppress a smile any longer as Peter stepped even closer, pressing her gently into the counter once again.

"Liv," he said sternly, his hands finding hers. She let out three small laughs as Peter pressed himself against her lower body, and he felt her squirm beneath him, unsure of her motive. "I'm going to need those back," he said slower, drawing out each syllable, and her head turned back to meet his eyes. She grinned and wrapped her arms around his neck, leaving Peter to support his body on hers and the counter.

"Then take them back," she whispered and raised an eyebrow, tracing his hairline on his neck. The edge of the counter nipped at her lower back as Peter kissed her again, moving his hands to her hips, running his fingertips along the band of his boxers that she wore. Her skin was warm, inviting as he raised her hips to meet his, pressing herself against him. She squirmed beneath him again as Peter ran his hands along the back of the shorts, his hands cupping her buttocks.

He grabbed the bottom of her shirt leaving Olivia standing in nothing his boxers, the thin layers of clothes separating them were not enough to hide Peter's enjoyment of her little game. He lifted her onto the counter once again and moved between her legs, teasing her even more and earned a small moan from her lips, their hands roaming over each other, familiar with the bumps and curves of each other's body by now. He felt her smile against him as he moved his lips down to her neck, tasting the salty sweetness she offered to him willingly. He arched his lips lower as he kissed the strap of her bra, removing the cloth from her shoulders.

"Are we really doing this again?" she breathed as Peter slipped his boxers from her lower body and pressed himself against her again, cursing himself for still having his pants on. He gripped her legs as she pulled his sweatpants down, her fingers greedy begged for his body. He kissed her deeply, his tongue at war with hers as he pressed himself into her. She gasped and smiled against his lips, uttering his name slowly, a contradiction to the pace he now set, rocking and smooth as he made love to her again, christening her kitchen counter. He could wake and do this every morning and not be disappointed with the way her body moved in rhythm with his.

The responses he pulled from her mouth were enough to make him lift her from the counter and move into the living room as they fell slowly to the couch, her back sinking into the cushions as he sank further into her, moaning her name against her shoulder, his teeth gripping her skin gently. No way were they going to make it back to bed. Time to christen the couch as well. Her fingers gripped his hair as his lips danced across her chest, his hands exploring her once again.

Grabbing her hands he pinned them on toe arm of the couch as he stared into her piercing green eyes as the sparkled. There was another thing she liked… Peter forcing her to sit still, the power over her he instilled was enticing. She bit her lip as he continued to move against her body, his eyes not leaving hers. He loved watching her face; the way she responded to him was a high he could never get enough of, her lips trembling as she moaned, her eyes rolling with the white hot waves that crashed in her body.

As if on cue, her phone buzzed on the table. Unlike last time, they were too far into it this time, their animal attraction far too intense to stop on a dime, the appetite far from satisfied. She reached across the table and grabbed it, the words _Astrid_ blinked across the screen. She smirked and threw the phone behind the couch, knowing the repercussions would come later, but she didn't care.

"That's a new one," he said into her neck, her ankles hitching into his knees as she coaxed him back to their pace, "Throwing the phone away."

She grunted, biting her lip as another wave hit her body making Olivia snake up against him, her eyes glowing. "_Nothing_ is interrupting this, I don't care of the world implodes." Olivia grinned as Peter kissed her.

"Well we all know what Olivia Dunham wants, she gets," he bit his lip as her nails dug into his back, his hips grinding harder into hers. "And right now, she's definitely getting it." He smirked against her lips.

Her phone buzzed on the floor again, but she ignored it, Peter's breathing in her ear was loud as they wave they rode began to crash again, spraying across a love soaked beach, their waves receding as they finished, a satisfied grin spread across both their faces as Peter collapsed against her, their bodies tired and sore from the night before, and with this new session just added to the burn they felt with each movement.

After mustering the strength that he could Peter climbed off of her and made his way into the bathroom as Olivia walked around the side of the couch in all her curvaceous glory and answered her phone as it rang impatiently again, the cool air against her bare skin made the hair on her arms stand.

"Dunham," she said as she heard Peter turn on the shower. "Sorry, I didn't hear my phone ring, we were in the middle of breakfast." Listening, she nodded, crossing her arm over her bare stomach. "Alright Astrid, we'll be there shortly, thanks." She hit end and made her way into the bathroom as Peter stepped into the tub. "We've got a case, so don't take long. I also need to get in." She leaned against the door jam, as Peter wiped a stray drop of water from his eyes. He pulled the curtain back and reached for her shoulder as she smiled at him once again.

"We both know there's only one way to solve this dilemma if we both need to shower, Liv, and frankly it's quite lonely in here," he said, pulling into the tub, the warm water soaked her skin as he wrapped his arms around her, enjoying paradise underneath their own private waterfall.

Olivia pressed him against the wall, "I guess there is," she chuckled and kissed him, pulling the curtain closed behind them.

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><p><em>Reviews welcome. <em>


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